The Closet Effect
by wimmer511
Summary: Lisbon agrees to go to DC with Pike after an awkward moment with Jane. When a storm hits the FBI HQ they are forced to discuss what happened and her upcoming move. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is based on two things. First on spoilers for tonight's episode. I realize this is a risky move since in a few hours all of my theorizing will be proven wrong, but I am hoping that you will indulge me by suspending your disbelief. The next thing it's based on is a review I got from someone, I can't remember who or on what story, that basically said that she enjoyed my story because it was more original than Jane and Lisbon getting locked in a closet and making out because they have nothing better to do. It so cracked me up that I had to write a closet story. Haha! I'd dedicate this story to her if only I remembered who she was. This is a multichapter, but will probably only have three chapters in it. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

_Lisbon wouldn't have doubted me_, Jane thought as he grabbed two beers from the bartender. He'd actually become quite fond of Fischer over the last few months, but the moment she'd snarikly told him "good luck with that," and walked off, he couldn't help but to sulk a little. Lisbon might have rolled her eyes, but she never would've doubted him, and he'd had a long day. Being indicted for murder was never fun. He knew from experience.

Thankfully Abbott had been able to pull some strings, convince them he wasn't a flight risk and that he was needed to solve the current case they were working on. He'd been grateful, but it'd still taken several hours and by the time he'd gotten back to the office Lisbon was gone for the evening and he was being recruited to go with Fischer to the club were their suspect was.

The entire thing was disheartening. He'd finally gotten up the courage to tell Lisbon that he hoped she stayed, and had intended on telling her a whole lot more, when he'd been arrested. So here he stood, in a night club, feeling sad and lonely, five beers in, plan working like a charm with the blonde pawn at his side and Fischer standing in the corner worrying.

He handed one to the blond, Veronica was her name, and caught a glimpse of Fischer on her phone over the woman's shoulder. Jane grabbed Veronica's hand and led her to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms and tilted his head back to take a nice long chug of beer. He closed his eyes and swayed back and forth, pretending it was an entirely different woman in his arms. A woman who was, most assuredly at this moment, in the arms of Marcus Pike. He didn't particularly care that he was starting to feel dizzy and a little nauseous, his plan was working and the beer was successfully numbing him to his own feelings.

* * *

Lisbon flashed her badge at the front door of the club and was immediately let through. A half an hour ago she'd been irritated when Fischer had called her and told her that Jane was out of control and despite his insisting that his plan was working perfectly, she wasn't sure it was and at this point didn't know what to do.

Lisbon had told her that Jane's plans often seemed pointless until they were brought to fruition and told her to just give it some more time, she was sure things would work out soon enough. Then Kim had to go and tell her that Jane had already downed half a dozen beers. That had shaken Lisbon to her core.

She'd seen Jane enjoy a glass of wine or champagne, and on very rare occasion a beer, but six beers in the matter of an hour? That was not normal. She worried that Jane was taking his indictment more seriously than he had the first time he'd been tried for Red John's "murder." That perhaps he'd decided to just give up. It made her gut clench.

She'd left work early after Jane had been arrested, and had gone home to think. Marcus had called her several times, but she was antsy and frustrated and just not in the mood to be around anyone.

As much as she cared about Pike, he could never understand how she was feeling, he could never understand the horror that had been Red John in her life and Jane's and the lives of her old CBI team. Pike was a good man, but he wasn't unlike she'd been with Jane at the beginning. She knew that he would think, just as she had, that if he were willing to do the crime than he would have to be willing to face the consequences of his actions as well. Oh, how she had changed over the years.

Now the idea of Jane facing any consequences for _that_ monster was an idea that was completely unbearable to her. Which is why she'd gone home after she heard Abbott had gotten Jane out. She couldn't face him right now, couldn't face his confession that he didn't want her to leave amidst the possibility of him spending life in prison, or the worse death row. And she couldn't face Marcus, a man who would never understand what they'd been through. He'd try to understand and would be kind. He'd ask her to tell him, but how did you explain something like that? You didn't, that's how.

She pushed through a crowd of people in line for the bathrooms and jolted to a stop when Jane's voice came over the speakers loud and clear.

"I'm being indicted for murder and was hoping to go out with a bang," he said. She sped up and rounded the corner in time to see Jane point at a very angry looking man in a grey suit. "That man is a drug dealer and a killer."

She stopped dead in her tracks, jaw dropped as Jane stumbled a little to the side and lifted a beer to his lips, taking a swig. This was apparently all the distraction the other man needed to jump on stage and throw a punch at Jane. Lisbon reached for her gun, berating herself when she realized it wasn't on her hip. She'd left it at home. She wasn't technically working and hadn't thought to bring it.

The crowd gasped as Jane hit the floor, his beer flying out of his hand. Lisbon pushed through the crowd, but Kim beat her there and was holding a gun on the man.

Jane sat up and squinted through a red eye. "Did you see that?" he said, sounding more pleased than Lisbon believed he had right too.

"We saw it," Fischer said throwing her handcuffs to Lisbon. Lisbon handcuffed the man as two other agents came up and collected him.

"Teresa," Jane said sounding a little wistful when he saw her there. "You're here?"

He sounded drunk, Lisbon thought. She shot him a glare, angry at him that he still seemed to think it was okay to get punched in order to have cause to arrest someone and angry with herself for not thinking to warn Fischer.

She looked at Fischer then glanced at the angry man as he was being led out of the club, "You got him?"

Fischer nodded and then glanced down at Jane. "You got him?"

Lisbon sighed. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Fischer headed out as Lisbon helped Jane to his feet and swung his arm over her shoulders.

"I thought you were out with Puke…Pike tonight," Jane said. Lisbon thought he sounded a little resentful, but it was probably just the alcohol bringing out his jerky side.

"I cancelled," she said as she started leading him through the crowd and toward the bar, a little surprised at how quickly people seemed to forget the scene that had just taken place and get back to their partying. A few people were still glancing in their direction, but not many. "I needed time to think."

"To think about what?" he asked, and she could've sworn that he sniffed her hair.

She ignored his question and helped him sit down on a bar stool. Then got ice in a paper towel from the bartender, and placed it gently on his eye. "Why do you do this to yourself, Jane?"

He reached up to where her hand was holding the ice and placed his hand above hers. "You are so beautiful," he told her, leaning forward.

She felt herself flush and tried to pull away from him, tried to. "Stop it. You're drunk. How many drinks have you had?"

He leaned back and made eye contact. "Not enough apparently, because I'm still conscious." He chuckled. "I know I'm conscious because if I was unconscious and this were a dream, we'd be making out right now."

She rolled her eyes, made him take the ice bag from her and then placed her hands on her hips. He was clearly out of it. She just hopped he wouldn't remember this later because she was sure he'd be humiliated. "Uh huh. Maybe I should get you some water."

She turned to face the bar again, when she suddenly felt Jane's hands on her hips, felt him pull her to him, bring her between his thighs, right before he crashed his lips to hers. Her eyes bulged and her hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back.

"Jane," she managed to squeak out against his lips. His grip tightened on her back and she was surprised at how strong he was. She leaned her head away from his and not even an inch from his lips and turned her head. "What are you…" but before she could finish her sentence, his lips were against her throat and he started trailing light kisses across her jaw line and toward her lips. She pushed at his shoulders for a moment longer, until she felt her resistance quickly waning, felt her knees starting to buckle, then his lips were on hers again and she found herself kissing him back with equal fervor.

He tasted like dark bitter beer and at the same time just like how she would've imagined he would taste, if she had ever imagined him, which she hadn't. Her hands slid up his shoulders and into his silky smooth hair and he moaned against her mouth. Her head was spinning. This wasn't right, she shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be kissing Jane. She had a boyfriend, one with whom she was seriously considering moving to D.C. with.

He bit at her bottom lip and she sucked in a deep breath. Then again, before Jane had been dragged off by Agents earlier today, he had told her he wanted her to stay and if she were being totally honest with herself she'd been seriously considering that as well.

His lips were soft, but demanding against hers and she was shocked at how masterful he was at kissing, even three sheets to the wind. His hands slid soothingly up her back and she unwittingly wondered what it'd be like to kiss him when he wasn't drunk.

And that thought was enough to bring her back to her senses. She leaned away and he tried to follow her, but this time he wasn't being as rough as he had been when he'd started the kiss.

"Jane, stop," she said in her most stern voice.

His eyes opened and despite the fact that they were slightly hooded, she could have sworn that she was now looking into the eyes of a completely sober Jane.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Don't leave me, Teresa," he said under his breath. "Please. Kiss me again."

She felt her breath hitch in her throat and despite the resolve she thought she'd reclaimed, she found herself leaning toward him. So, it surprised her when he suddenly pushed her away from him. She felt a painful sensation in her gut as she lost the warmth of his thighs on her sides, his chest against hers and wondered if this was what it felt like to be rejected by him. Those thoughts immediately flew out the window however, when he shoved her to the right before turning to the left and throwing up all over the floor.

She jumped back, amidst screams from nearby patrons and watched dumbfounded as he finished up and grabbed a paper towel to wipe his mouth. He looked over at her, eyes glazed over, and absolutely drunk, with a lopsided grin on his face. "That was no kisses on your refection," he said reaching for her with puckered lips.

It took her a second to straighten out his mangled sentence and when she did she felt herself blush and her jaw tighten. She swatted at his hands. "You just threw up."

His face dropped and turned an unnatural shade of gray. He rested his elbows on his legs and hung his head. He started taking deep breaths and she decided there was no point holding a grudge. No point being offended or hurt, because there was no way he'd remember any of this anyway.

He looked up at her with a frown. "Could you take me to my airstream, please?"

She sighed. Loudly. "Come on," she told him, helping him out of his chair.

"Thank you, you're an angel," he said.

"Don't thank me yet," she told him. "You throw up in my car and I'll dump you at the side of the road."

* * *

Three days later, the case was solved and Jane was expecting the results of his own case the next day. Before any of that happened though he needed to talk with Lisbon. He stood on her porch staring at her door, box of donuts in hand and took a deep breath. He was an idiot, but he was an idiot who was going to try and make things right. He reached up, hand shaking and rang her doorbell.

The door to her new home squeaked open a moment later and there she was. She looked tired, frustrated, and beautiful. Every day that she got closer to making a decision as to whether or not she stay or go, she became more and more beautiful to him. The more imminent the possibility of losing her was the more he found himself studying everything he possibly could about her. If he had to spend the rest of his life without her physical presence, he'd at least have very detailed memories of her.

"Jane?" she said stepping out and closing the door a little behind her as she did. "What are you doing here?"

His stomach churned. Pike was obviously there or she would have invited him in. It didn't matter though. It was now or never. He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to bring you this," he said handing her the donuts.

She lifted the lid, then gave him an incredulous look. "Bearclaws?"

He steeled himself. "I just wanted to reiterate my desire that you stay."

He felt a little encouraged when she tried to suppress a smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

He continued. "I know that I haven't told you as often as you deserve to hear it, but you mean the world to me and I don't want to lose you." He watched as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "I know this is the worst possible time to be doing this to you, what with my trial tomorrow and Pike…" he nodded at the house and she blushed again. "But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you how much you mean to me."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "And you thought you could accomplish that with donuts?"

He smiled and took a step toward her, almost subconsciously. "I hoped it'd help. Figured it couldn't hurt."

She stood tall and stuck her chin out, daring him. "I need more than donuts Jane."

He moved again. "You have given my life meaning and hope. Pulled me from a fate worse than death. Saved me figuratively," he furrowed his brow and amended with, "and literally. You have given up so much for me already. I know asking you to stay isn't fair, but I can't imagine my life without you."

This time she moved closer to him. He realized belatedly that it would be so easy to lean down and kiss her.

"Really?" she asked in a husky voice that Jane couldn't decide was frustrated or sad.

He remembered that part of the reason he'd come here in the first place was to apologize. He needed to clear the air. To let her know that he could be good for her too.

"Yes. And I know I need to apologize for what happened in the club. I don't know what I was thinking…."

He stopped abruptly when she suddenly appeared as though she'd been slapped across the face. She stepped back. "You remember what happened in the club?"

"Yes, and I am so sorry. I was out of line," he told her.

Her expression hardened and she stepped back again. "You're sorry?" she snapped.

He felt his brow furrow. "Well…yes. I shouldn't have…"

She put her hand up. "Stop. I don't want to hear it Jane. I'm sick and tired of this," she signaled between the two of them, "this weird, indefinable, awkward and painful mess that is the very definition of our relationship. I can't live like this anymore." She handed the donuts back and he suddenly felt more nauseous than he had that night at the club. Then she spoke as though she were only just realizing something for the first time. "I really hope things work out for you tomorrow, but we can't go on like this. I can't keep putting my life on hold, for you. I need something clear and easy, I need to know exactly where I stand."

He felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. "Teresa, you can't actually mean that we're…."

She turned to the door, opening her screen then looked back, using the screen, subconsciously as a shield. "I'll see you in court tomorrow, Jane. You'd better get some sleep."

"Teresa, please. Just hear me out…" he all but begged.

She shook her head. "Goodnight Jane," she said, then stepped into her house and shut the door.

He stood there, more perplexed than he'd ever been. He didn't understand what he'd said that was wrong. He was sure that for a moment there she would have let him kiss her, then suddenly she was telling him that she didn't want anything to do with him again. His body trembled and he let out an small and unexpected sob that he hadn't known was trying to escape. He rested his hand on her door and took several deep breaths.

She hadn't decided to leave yet, and if she did decide to leave he still had time. Tomorrow he'd insist on talking. Insist that she tell him why she'd suddenly gotten so angry with him. Tomorrow he'd tell her he loved her.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. I have another multi-chapter going right now called The Fun House if anyone is interested. Reviews are the best! **

**Oh and by the way, I hope no one was irritated by the Puke/Pike comment. I had to throw it in because I frequently misspell his name on my phone on twitter and I noticed others do as well, and some do it intentionally...ahem, you know who you are. Anyway, it just struck me as funny. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thank you to those of you who reviewed my last chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 2

A Month Later

Lisbon sat at her desk, her head rested in one hand while she typed with her free hand. She knew she probably should've taken a personal day. She was moving in two days and she still had packing to do, but she'd wanted to spend her last official work day in Austen, actually _in_ the office. Now, however, she was starting to think the entire idea had really been fool hardy. She'd been up half the night packing, and was exhausted.

She sighed, trying not to be too loud, but her head was killing her. Jane had been particularly distant of late. It made her chest hurt, but she couldn't really blame him. Ever since he'd shown up on her porch a month ago, she'd done better than her best to make sure they were never alone together. She'd been so angry with him for apologizing for kissing her and the last thing she wanted was to talk about it. It had brought back some very unpleasant memories of when he'd taken back his "love you." It had hurt. A lot. She'd gone right to Marcus and told him she was coming with him and she'd effectively shut Jane out for anything not case related.

They'd barely even spoken in the last week, and while she'd chosen Marcus and was happy to be going with him, she still cared about Jane. Still wanted to say goodbye to him. She knew that at very least he had valued her partnership and she had valued his. There was no way she was going to leave without acknowledging that. It wouldn't be fair, to either of them.

A clap of thunder startled her and she jumped. She turned in her chair and looked out the window at the dark clouds swirling in the sky and saw two more lightening strikes back to back. Her jaw dropped, it'd been blue skies only thirty minutes ago.

She felt the hair on the hair on the back of her neck rise, and not from the thunder. Her eyes lowered to Jane's face unwittingly. He was staring at her not unlike she had probably just been staring at the sky. With wide eyes and rapt attention. Her stomach clenched.

They stared at each other for a moment. She wanted to say something, it hurt that she didn't feel like she could, but in all fairness that had been her fault. She couldn't blame him for acting shut down when all she'd been doing to him for a month was shutting him out. She swallowed and opened her mouth, but no words came.

She looked at her lap and almost turned back to her computer when he spoke. "You all packed?" he asked.

She looked up and couldn't decide if she wanted to smile at the fact that he had taken pity on her, or frown at the topic he'd brought up. "No, not yet."

His face remained placid. "Everyone's clearing out early," he informed her. She had seen people leaving. There was hardly anyone left. "There's supposed to be a monsoon. You should probably hit the road too. You wouldn't want to get stuck here." He stood up and made his way into the kitchen after that.

She felt like she'd just been slapped in the face. A lump formed in her throat and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She reached up and wiped at her cheek, then looked back down at her computer. It started to rain heavily and she watched as the last two remaining agents on her floor that she could see got onto the elevator. He was right, the sooner she got out of here, the better. She grabbed her phone and pulled up Marcus' number, then changed her mind and sat her phone on her desk. She went to her email instead and printed her flight itinerary and then got up and walked to the printer.

The printer told her that the machine was out of paper, so she opened up the drawer under the printer where they normally kept the paper, then slammed it when she saw it was empty. She headed for the storage that was down the hall from Abbott's office. She reached the closet, opened the door that was slightly ajar and stepped inside, kicking something at her feet into the small space.

She stopped abruptly, and the door hit her back. The space was lit by a small light the swung overhead, giving her a perfect and unexpected view of Jane. He was holding a box of tea in each hand and looked as though he had been deciding which flavor he should take. Now he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

"Teresa, what are you doing here?" he asked.

She glared at him and cocked her head to the side to see the shelf to his left. There were at least fifteen different boxes of tea. She rolled her eyes and stepped into the room and to the right, toward the printer paper.

"Wait! Don't let that close!" Jane said lurching past her.

She fell into the shelves as he pushed by. "Jane! What the hell?"

He grabbed the knob and pulled, but it was too late. He took a deep breath then turned to look at her. "It's locked." He bent down and picked something up off the floor. It was a small pencil. "It was keeping the door from shutting. You kicked it out."

She felt her face blanch and pushed past him to the door, grabbing the handle. He backed up as she shook it several times, more and more frantically until finally giving up. She turned to Jane, who looked as horrified as she felt.

"Did you do this?" She jabbed a finger in the direction of the door.

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, there's a note on the door. It's broken, hence the pencil." He lifted the pencil again.

"Can you pick it?"

He shook his head. "No, there's nothing to pick it with. Do you have your phone?"

She felt a small tingle of relief and reached for her pocket, and when finding it empty, remembered that she taken it out of her blazer to call Marcus and had left it on her desk. She sighed. "It's on my desk."

Just than a crackling boom sounded over the building. They both flinched at the earth trembling thunder they'd just heard then looked at each other. The moment they made eye contact, the light flickered out.

* * *

There was a time, Jane thought, when he might have fantasized over the idea of getting locked in a closet with Teresa. He'd fantasized about her frequently enough, but they usually involved her deciding to stay here with him. Still, he could see merit in the idea of being locked in a closet with her for hours, or in this case three hours. Maybe they'd banter a little about how they'd get out, she'd roll her eyes and eventually they'd end up making out, because there was nothing better to do, until they were rescued, preferably by Pike who'd open the door just as she was running her hands up his shirt. The very idea thrilled him to even think about, however his fantasy was far outdoing his reality.

Jane sat on the floor with his back to the wall, facing Lisbon who was seated across from him, with her back against the door. They had barely said a word since the lights had gone out. As a matter of fact, he hadn't even tried once she turned and started yelling for help interspersed with kicking and hitting the door. He'd seen her kick in doors before, so he'd been surprised when the storage door had stood strong. Apparently the FBI took guarding their office supplies very seriously.

She'd gone hoarse about thirty minutes in and had sat with her back against the door. Now she was randomly banging it against the door, over and over and _over_ again, every few seconds or so. Had been doing so since she'd stopped screaming.

He jumped when the back of her head once again made contact with the door. "Would you stop that!"

Their eyes had long adjusted to the dark room and he could see her glare at him. "Not unless you have a better idea of how to get us out of here."

Jane stood up. "All right, that's it. I can't take it anymore."

He moved over to where she was sitting, reached down and grabbed her under the arms, bringing her to a standing position.

"Jane…" she was startled, "what are you doing?"

He turned them both, then let her go and backed up to the door. "I'm not letting you bang your head up against the door anymore. Clearly the building has been vacated. You're going to give yourself a headache, if you haven't already. Just, go sit over there." He pointed to where he'd been sitting.

She shook her head, but didn't argue and moved over to where he'd been sitting. He was a little surprised that she hadn't fought with him, but things were different now. They hadn't had a conversation alone since the night he'd gone to her house, and now she was moving off with another man. All his intentions to get her alone and express his love for her had gone right out the window, she'd seen to that through avoidance. She had clearly made her choice and it was not him.

He waited for her to take her seat before sitting himself.

Several minutes of silence passed before Lisbon finally spoke. "You know, Jane, you're a real ass."

_Not banter, per se, but after three hours of silence I'll take what I can get. _"Excuse me?"

She leaned away from the wall. "oh, uh, I called you an _ass_."

_Then again, maybe the silence was better. _"Yes, I heard Lisbon," he said indignantly. "I guess I was just wondering what I could have possibly done since being locked in here, three hours ago, to deserve that?"

"Well, for starters, you were born."

Jane could feel his brow knit as he pondered how quickly this was becoming ridiculous. "But not in the last three hours."

She leaned back against the wall again with a huff.

"We could be locked in here for hours, Lisbon, so why don't you just tell me what's on your mind. Get it off your chest."

"You're The Mentalist, figure it out," she seethed.

"Yes, a Mentalist, not a mind-reader. I'm not exactly on top of my game right now. I can barely see you, and you're impressively guarded _and_ we've hardly spoken in a month, not exactly an ideal candidate, you are, for Mentalism."

"Oh please, you solved a case once when you were blind, don't give me that crap."

Fine, if she wanted to play it that way. "Okay, you asked for it. You're mad at me for not giving you the warm and mushy goodbye you were hoping I'd give you, and pissed that you're locked in here with me and I'm still not giving it to you. We'll you might as well get over it Teresa. Because it's not going to happen. You chose to leave, you chose to break up the team, you chose Marcus. I'm not going to pretend I'm okay with that, so you can leave with a clean conscience."

He heard an angry intake of breath, a fumbling noise seconds before he saw a small square-ish object flying at his head. It hit him in the face, a sharp card-board box corner dug painfully into the middle of his forehead, before dropping to his lap.

"Ouch!"

"For your information Jane," Lisbon said as he lifted the offending object and stared at it, "I wasn't trying to clear my conscience! I told you when you came back from your little island that I didn't want to put the rest of my life on hold to be your side-kick."

"You threw my tea at me?" he asked feeling completely befuddled and a little impressed that her aim was so good even in the dark.

She continued as though he hadn't interrupted. "Marcus is a good man and he loves me. He's a chance for me to have a family, a life outside of work."

Jane chucked the tea box to the side, feeling unexpectedly offended at her exclusion of him as family. "I'm not family?"

"No," she hissed. "You're just part of my 'team,' like you said, right? And like I said I'm not putting the rest of my life on hold for a 'team'. No matter how much I may care about them."

She still cared. He felt stupid now that he'd spent the last month doubting that fact. He felt confused. He could only recall a handful of times in his life he'd ever been confused and he hated it. "You couldn't honestly expect me to hug you and wish you well when every time I have tried to talk to you over the last month you avoided me. I acted how I thought you wanted me to," he said in a subdued and sad tone. This wasn't an ideal moment, she was moving in two days, they were both angry and trapped in a stale, musky closet, but he really saw no point in hiding his emotions from her.

The room went quiet again, and as much as Jane wanted to say something, he knew that the ball was in her court and it needed to stay there. He'd made his play and now it was her turn.

"Did the tea hurt you?" she asked a few moments later. He felt alight flutter of hope at the concern in her voice.

"Yes," he said immediately. "A corner hit me. I probably have a concussion."

A small bark of laughter escaped her. "Good," she said then abruptly dropped her head to her hands and started crying. It took Jane a moment to realize that was what she was doing. At first he thought she might still be laughing, and she wasn't sobbing, it was just a barely there noise that betrayed her. He felt his stomach clench.

He fought the urge to go to and comfort her. It was something he would have done in the past, but he still felt on shaky ground with her, and being locked in a closet with her for hours was doing nothing to settle it.

Instead he gave her what he thought she wanted. "You're right Teresa, Marcus is offering you something that the team can't. I'm sorry I've been so selfish, you've just been a part of my life for so long that the idea of going back to how it was on the island is really hard for me. You deserve to be happy, though. You deserve to be with the man you love. You'd be a fool to stay here for anything less than that. When we get out of this closet, and you leave, I promise to be on my best behavior. I'll wish you luck and give you a goodbye hug. Or, if you prefer, I'll got lost. Whatever you want, just please don't cry."

She looked up at him and even though it was too dark for him to be sure, he could imagine the tears in her eyes. "I don't want to say goodbye, Jane."

He choked up at her words, but swallowed. "Okay, then I'll leave. You won't have to see me. Won't have to say…"

"That's not what I meant, Jane. We've worked together for a long time. It's hard," she said.

He could hear the stress in her tone and it cut him to the core. "Yes, it is, but it's not like we'll never see each other again. You'll visit, I'll visit. You can show me the sights and protect me from muggers."

She chuckled again. "Sounds like fun."

"Yes, I'm sure Marcus will be thrilled too," Jane added unable to resist.

"What's your problem with him anyway?" she asked all seriousness again.

_He's stealing the woman I love from me. _"Nothing," was what he replied. "He's a perfectly nice man, I suppose."

She guffawed. "Oh please, you hate him. I've worked with you for over a decade. Don't think I don't know when you hate someone. I may not be a Mentalist, but you've never exactly been subtle about dislike."

"I guess I never saw any point in hiding it," he said trying to sound as off-handed as possible.

He heard her mumble a little and knew she wanted to say something else on the topic, but when she spoke again, she said something different. "Well, you're going to have to if you come visit. You can be mean to the man who's hosting you."

Jane cringed and felt grateful for the dark. The idea of staying in the same home as Teresa and another man, sleeping in a room next to the one she was sharing with another man, held about as much appeal as getting shot at. He had to change the subject. "There's a vent on the ceiling in here, if it's not bolted shut I think you could fit through and get out that way."

She was silent a moment. "Okay."

* * *

Lisbon's emotions were all over the place. She was still in shock a little by what Jane had said to her. That he'd so wittingly given up, apologized, told her that he'd give her the goodbye she wanted. It relieved and upset her all at the same time. Although, right now, she was feeling a little irritated.

"Jane, get your hands off my butt," she spat down at him.

He rolled his eyes. As much as he would like to cop a feel, this was not how he imagined it going. "And where exactly would you like me to put them? If I move them you'll fall."

She had one foot resting on the edge of a shelf and the knee of her other leg on Jane's shoulder as she was reaching for the vent. He was holding the bulk of her weight, but she'd started wobbling and now he was pushing her up by her butt.

She huffed. "Fine."

"Lisbon, hurry please, I don't have a very good grip on you and I feel like you're about to fall."

She burst out laughing at the absurd comment and reached up for the vent. She stuck her fingers through and started yanking at it. "No good, it's screwed shut. Help me down."

Jane started to help her to the ground when the foot she thought she'd planted firmly on the shelf slipped. She flailed her arms and fell into Jane, he caught her and held her until she regained her balance. She revealed in the feel of his arms around her and the way they were pressed together, and she suddenly wanted her goodbye hug now. She tightened her arms around him and buried her head in the crook of his neck.

He stiffened and she felt a lump form in her throat, but didn't let go. "Jane, you promised me a goodbye hug. I want it now. Just give it to me."

The last thing she expected was that he would. He tightened his grip around her back and buried his face in her hair and the lump in her throat grew. She was so grateful. Grateful for this moment, that things felt easy and comforting.

He inhaled deeply and she slid her arms down from his shoulders and up under his arms, grabbing chunks of his shirts. She had to will herself not to cry. She supposed she should be grateful for this time. A few hours ago she thought she wasn't going to get a goodbye at all, being locked in this closet sucked, but at least it would give her something happy to remember

She sighed, "I'm going to miss you, Jane."

His grip tightened on her. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I have to say it. The night I came to your house…"

"You're right, I don't want to hear it," she said as she started to pull away from him.

She wasn't sure if she should feel comforted or ticked when he didn't let her.

"Well, tough," he said. "You're going to hear it anyway. I love you and…"

She leaned away from him and looked up. She felt confused. What did this have to do with the night he came over? "I love you too, Jane, but I can't stand to hear you apologize for expressing tenderness toward me again."

"…and I don't want you to go," he finished over her. Then his face fell. "What?"

She felt her face heating up. "You heard me…"

He pulled back from her as well, allowing his hands to rest on her hips. "What are you talking about?"

She looked away. This was very quickly turning into a conversation she hadn't expected nor, now that she was in it, wanted. The last thing she wanted to admit was that she was only leaving with Marcus because he had failed to give her a better offer. She pulled out of his grasp and faced the door.

"Maybe if we both put our shoulders to it, we could get it open?"

He grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him, then grabbed her shoulders and hunched down to look her in the eye. "You think I was going to apologize for kissing you?"

"Well, weren't you?" she asked trying to sound nonchalant.

His eyes grew wide. "Are you nuts? Like any man in his right mind would apologize for kissing you. I came to apologize for throwing up on you, and then…you know, trying to kiss you again. Weren't you just listening to me? I came to tell you I loved you and not to go."

She pulled her chin back, then scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head. This was confusing. "I know you love me Jane…"

He shook her shoulders until she opened her eyes again and looked at him, or glared indignantly.

"What?"

"No, Teresa. I am in love with you."

Her heart jumped into her chest. "Buuu, I, munah," she said. Then shook her head lightly again as she tried to figure out what she was trying to say.

He didn't give her a chance to respond. "I'm in love with you. I thought you'd sent me away because you'd chosen Marcus, not because you thought I was going to apologize for doing something that I had only been fantasizing about for years. Granted, I'd pictured myself sober and there wasn't any throwing up either…"

Her face screwed up. "What…the _hell_, Jane." She pulled out of his grasp and stepped back. "I have been a mess for weeks! Trying to decide if I should stay or go, then trying to stay away from you because I thought you didn't want me, and now two days before I'm supposed to leave you tell me you love me!"

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" He threw his arms up. "Just let you leave!"

"Yes! No…I don't know! This is such a mess," she was still yelling when she dropped her head to her hand. She took a deep breath than looked up at him. "You're an idiot!"

"Hey!" Jane yelled back. "I didn't see you trying to work things out with me. All you did was avoid me. Every time I tried you made some excuse to walk away or to start talking to someone else!"

"I thought…Ugh! I really hate you right now," she stepped forward and shoved his chest.

Right then the door opened, showing a very wet Marcus and Cho. Lisbon saw Jane's face fall and saw him shrug before she turned around.

"Is this a bad time?" Cho asked.

"Marcus?"

"How long have you two been in here?" Marcus asked.

Jane looked down at his watch. "A little over four hours."

Marcus looked uncomfortably between her and Jane.

"We'd never have found you if you hadn't been yelling," Cho said.

She felt her face heating up, but pushed down her anger. "Why are you guys wet?"

"We were supposed to meet your team for a goodbye dinner, remember?" Marcus asked. "When you didn't show up, and we couldn't get a hold of you we all decided we should come and look for you, what with the monsoon and all."

"The monsoon is still going?" Jane asked, coming to stand next to Lisbon. She crossed her arms and purposely avoided looking at him.

"No, but it's still raining. How'd you end up in the closet?" Cho asked, resting his hands on his hips.

"Tea," Jane said at the same time Lisbon said, "I was getting printer paper."

"Why didn't you call someone?" Marcus asked.

Lisbon sighed. "My phone is on my desk."

Cho pulled out his phone and pushed a button. A moment later, Jane's phone rang from his pocket. Lisbon's head whipped in his direction.

She rounded on him. "You had your damn phone on you the whole time?"

He glared at Cho, then looked back at Lisbon. "I didn't mean for us to get locked in the closet, but when we did I saw it as an opportunity to at least mend fences before you left."

"Looks like your plan worked well," Cho said.

"Teresa," Marcus placated. "He's your oldest friend. Maybe what he did was misguided, but his intentions were good."

Lisbon looked at Marcus then back at Jane who was staring at the man once again with open contempt.

"Pike," Jane said, "I don't think you want to help me right now." He took a deep breath, then step toward Teresa and made eye contact. "The perfect opportunity will never come. So here it is, on the table. I love you Teresa Lisbon, am in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and give you anything and everything you could possibly want. Marriage, a cute little bungalow of our very own, children even."

Lisbon felt her gut clench.

"Whoa," Marcus said. "Hey now…"

Jane ignored him and continued. "I know I'm late, and I know you're angry with me, but I'm here now. It's not too late. You can make an educated decision now on how you want your life to be and who you want it to be with."

She swallowed hard as he pulled his eyes away from her and looked at Pike. "I'm sorry Pike, but I don't like you."

At that Jane pushed past Pike and out of the closet. Lisbon took a deep breath then turned and looked after him.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! One more chapter to go. Reviews are almost as good as I am thinking tonight's episode will be! Eek! I'm so excited.  
**

**If you haven't checked it out, you should read Phoenixx2812's story Endgame. It's amazing.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, all. After the season finale I got all caught up in what really happened and lost my ability to be creative. Haha! I hope this chapter is at least worth the wait. I should warn you though that there is extensive fluff ahead. Slightly new territory for me, so I'd especially love to hear what you think. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Chapter 3

White and squeaky clean was the only way Jane could think of to describe the ceiling of his airstream. He lay on the couch, wishing that there was something there: tiles, stains, holes, anything just so that he would have something other than an expanse of nothingness to look at. It reminded him too much of what his life would be from here on out. Sure, he had seen it as a clean slate after he'd come back from South America, but even then, even unwittingly, Lisbon was the one who was going to help him fill in the blanks and give the world color again.

It'd been two days since they'd been locked in the closet together. Two days since he'd last seen her face. Two days since they'd spoken. He supposed that was his answer. She'd clearly chosen Pike. The squeaky clean, no skeletons in the closet, straightforward, bastard. And today she was leaving. He swallowed the bile rising up his throat and rolled to his side. He didn't want to look at the blank ceiling anymore. It was too painful.

He found it somewhat ironic that it was still raining outside. That it had been since the day in the closet. Not as hard, but a pretty consistent sprinkle mixed in with heavy downpours were the constant. Although the weather channel had said that there would be sunny skies tomorrow, he had no reason to believe that. How could the sky ever be sunny again when he'd lost his second chance at life _and_ out of pure cowardice nonetheless? All because he hadn't manned up in time to stop Lisbon from falling for Pike.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Today he would hold out for a miracle. Tomorrow he would come to grips with the fact that he'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, and the day after that he'd swallow the hurt, push it down until it was simply a numb spot in his heart and then he would go on.

Even if Lisbon didn't choose him, she had been an integral part in helping him find a new life. She'd given him a job when he'd been at his most sad and pathetic, had taken a chance on him when no one else would, and had believed in him almost immediately. Then of course she had spent years after that helping him, following him, showing unwavering loyalty and love and he would not repay her efforts by digressing. She wouldn't want that. She'd never let him give up before and wouldn't be happy if he did now.

His eyes flew open at the thought and he sat up with a jerk, nearly falling off his couch in the process.

"I'm an idiot," he spluttered. Wasn't he doing, at this very moment, what he'd just sworn in the exact same moment he wouldn't do? Giving up? Yes. Idiot wasn't even the right word. _Moron? Imbecile? Out of my ever lovin' mind? _That had to be it. He must be suffering from temporary insanity.

He stood up and made his way to the driver's seat of his airstream. He was well on his way within five minutes and fifteen minutes after that he'd arrived at her house. There were no lights on inside and he felt an immediate churning in his stomach. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He knew that it would be completely insane of him to drive all the way to D.C., but he'd already decided he was crazy, so if she wasn't there he'd just have to put his airstream to the first real good use it'd had.

He jumped out of the cab and made his way to her door, grateful for the lull in the rain, hesitating briefly before knocking. The fact that he'd been holding his breath didn't register until he heard an undignified squeal from inside followed by some very unsavory cuss words. He smiled despite the anger he heard in her voice. He could deal with her anger a lot easier than he could deal with her being in D.C.

He looked through her shades and a moment later he saw a petite silhouette, he assumed was Lisbon, heading for the door. His stomach flip-flopped and he swallowed thickly right before she threw the door open.

"What!" she snapped, then seeing it was Jane immediately sobered. "Jane, what…"

Jane's mouth fell open. "What happened to you?"

Her shocked expression dropped the moment he took her in and she glared at him. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, and was dripping wet. She had a little mascara running down her cheek under one eye, and now, after his remark, she looked seriously perturbed.

"I was putting my shower curtain back up and was startled by your knock," she explained.

"And you fell into the faucet and turned the shower on," he finished for her smirking at how hilarious _and_ cute that was.

She narrowed her eyes. "What Jane? What do you want?"

He opened his mouth to tease her some more when he realized what it was she'd said. "You were putting your shower curtain _back_ up?"

She crossed her arms. "Well yeah, they do tend to come in handy when you shower."

Jane could feel disbelief course through his body at her words and before either of them knew what he was doing he'd pushed his way past her and into her house. He looked around noticing that there were in fact several boxes that could be in the process of being packed or unpacked, as he made his way to her bathroom.

"Jane!" he heard Lisbon following behind him. "Why do you think you're doing?"

He skidded to a stop in her bathroom door, and she slammed into the back of him. He looked at the shower curtain that was now hanging half on and half off the rod. He moved into the bathroom and stepped into the tub. He looked down and saw the water that was in the drain, corroborating Lisbon's story, and shower curtain rings sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Jane, what on earth…" Lisbon said half irritated half amused that he was standing in her shower.

He looked up at her and relief washed through his body. "You're staying?"

She swallowed and walked over to him. "I was going to tell you yesterday, but I've felt a little overwhelmed and embarrassed. I mean," she spoke quickly, "I just accepted a new job in D.C. that I had to quit, I had to talk to Abbott about my job here, had to recall all my things that were on route to D.C. and," she looked down, her cheeks reddening, "I had to break up with Marcus. It's been a hectic…"

Jane wasn't completely sure how it happened, but he suddenly found himself reaching for her and pulling her into the shower with him and her sopping wet body into his firm embrace. He could feel water seeping through his button down and a strand of her wet hair stuck to his cheek. He revealed in it. It was a moment before her hands came slowly up and around his back.

"Jane, I'm soaked," she whispered.

"I don't care," he said grasping her tighter.

She chuckled lightly and he felt his body heat up. "Well," she said, "you will care when you let me go and your shirt is clinging to you."

He released her with one hand and reached over to the handle of the faucet turning it on full blast before putting his arm around her again.

"Jane!" she squealed as the lukewarm water soaked both of them through, her arms lifted away from him. "Are you crazy?"

He tightened his hold on her, buried his face in her hair and kissed the first piece of skin his lips found exposed on her neck. She went stiff. He pulled back enough to look her in the eye, water was splashing down the side of her face and he suddenly thought she'd never been so beautiful.

"Tell me why you stayed?" he whispered.

"You know why I stayed."

"I want to hear it."

She blushed. "Did you mean what you said? About all of it?"

He was at no loss as to what she meant. Did he really love her? Did he really want to have a home and family with her, a future? He could feel the muscles in her stomach tighten, in anticipation of his response, against his body and had to control the urge he had to simply push her against the wall and have his wicked way with her.

He had turned the water on to show her that he truly didn't care what their circumstances were as long as they were together, but now that they were both soaked through, water still running down their bodies, as she was pressed against him, he was thinking that this might not have been the best idea. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I meant every word," he told her and watched in total fascination as a smile crept over her face. He then added, "As a matter of fact I'd be happy to get a start on one of those things right now…"

She shoved his shoulder and tried to step out of the shower, but he pulled her back to him and wrapped his arm around her so that the full length of her was pressed against him.

"Uh uh," he chided. "I think you have something to say to me."

She tried to hold her scowl as her hands found her hips while he held her close. "I don't think this is the time or place."

He leaned forward, and pecked the corner of her lips. "Tell me."

She swallowed thickly, but shook her head.

He kissed the other corner. "Tell me."

"Jane…" she whined, her hands left her hips and landed on his shoulders. "The showers on."

He smirked and pulled her out of the spray, never taking his eyes off her. He leaned forward stopping a mere inch from her mouth. She drew in a deep breath as her eyes drooped and she leaned forward. He pulled back so that she couldn't kiss him. "Uh uh. Tell me."

She leaned forward again. "I love you," she said against his lips."

He felt a full on smile break out across his face and kissed her for all he was worth. He could feel them listing toward the wall and when his back hit it, they were once again under the full spray of the shower. He couldn't care less, and was pleased that she didn't seem to mind either. He felt her hand slide down his arm and stop on his bicep and smiled as she tightened her grip on it, then yelped when she pinched him. He pulled away and looked at his arm then back at the wicked grin on her face.

"What was that for?"

"I wanted to make sure you knew this wasn't a dream," she told him.

It took him a minute to remember and he was surprised that he felt a little embarrassed as the memory of the night he'd kissed her at the bar, drunk as a skunk, came back to mind. He had told her that he known he wasn't dreaming because if he had been, they'd be making out.

She chuckled at him as he thought about it, and it brought him out of the memory. He made eye contact and shrugged. "I know this isn't a dream," he said.

"Oh yeah," she asked, pushing a strand of dripping hair out of her face. "How?"

"My dreams were never this good."

She blushed anew and he had a feeling that it would never get old. "Now, tell me," he said against her lips. "Is kissing me when I'm sober as good as you thought it'd be?"

He braced himself for a smack, but was pleasantly surprised when she simply kissed him and said, "Better, much better."

* * *

Three Months Later

Tea was all he wanted, but was there any to be found? No. It just didn't seem fair. Jane opened every cupboard in the bullpen's kitchen and found nothing. He and the team had just spent a long week closing a gruesome murder case that involved a serial killer on a spree over several states and he was more than ready to be finished with it.

Sure he'd dealt with serial killers before, but he hadn't expected this one to hit so close to home. All the girls had been cut up in a fashion very similar to Red John's, and they discovered that there had been two killers working jointly and that had caused the team to split up. Lisbon had gone with Fischer and Wylie to New York while and he had gone with Cho and Abbott to Florida.

The stress of what he'd seen, mixed with the fact that the killers started escalating the closer the team got to catching them had Jane on edge. He felt he'd spent more time on the phone with Lisbon over the week, albeit in short intervals, than he'd ever spent on the phone in his entire life. He'd needed the reassurance that she was safe, and frankly not having her near had seriously hurt his a-game.

It wasn't until she and Fischer had had a close call, landing Fischer in the hospital with twelve stitches, that he'd forced himself to pull it together and get the case solved. And it was a good thing too, he thought as he slammed another cupboard, because the mere thought of spending another night without Lisbon was making him cranky.

She was flying back in around midnight tonight and he couldn't wait. It was seven, and everyone had already left for the night. He wasn't ready to leave though. The idea of going home to an empty house held about as much appeal as spending another night without Lisbon. He'd flown back in this morning and had gone straight to this quaint little jewelry shop he and Lisbon had found a month before while out on a date. The man who owned it cut all his own stones and made all the jewelry by hand.

At the time he'd been highly amused that Lisbon had barely given it a second glance. It really hadn't even occurred to her that maybe one day he'd want to buy her a ring, regardless of the fact that they talked daily about getting married. It wasn't because she couldn't see herself wearing a ring either, she'd just truly never considered that anyone would ever buy her one.

He'd been the one to insist they go in, despite her protestations that they'd be late to their movie. They had been, but it'd been worth it when he'd seen her eyes light up at the sight of one ring in the entire store. She'd hidden her reaction well, but he was a Mentalist after all. Good thing for her, really, otherwise she probably would've ended up with something she would've hated.

He tapped his pocket, reassuring himself that the ring box was still there, then left the kitchen and headed for the closet. There had to be tea in there. If not then he'd have to leave and go find some somewhere in the world. His nerves were seriously frazzled from his long week and from what he was planning on doing when Lisbon got home tonight. He had no reason to think she'd say "no," but he was still a little afraid.

He hadn't felt that way when he'd asked Angela, he'd been downright cocky then, even though he hadn't been sure of her answer. Over the last few months of being in a real relationship for the first time since Angela, he realized how much he'd changed over the years, how different a man he really was now. And the man he was now was humble enough to realize that he didn't just want Lisbon in his life, he needed her.

This week had thrown that into sharp relief for him. Especially now after not only working with her everyday, but spending the bulk of every afternoon, evening, nights and even early mornings with her. He was addicted now and had gone through some serious withdrawals this week that had caused the typically even tempered Cho to yell at him to knock it off and pull himself together.

He opened the door to the closet, turned the small hanging light on and grabbed the pencil he kept on the shelf to prop the door open with, then moved to the corner with his teas. He stopped abruptly when he saw three opened boxes, the three that had been in the cupboard in the kitchen when he'd last been here a week ago. He smiled.

The sound of a door clicking shut startled him. They were not getting trapped in this damned closet tonight. He whipped around and came face to face with a smirking Lisbon. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was holding up a small pencil for him to see.

"Oops," she said.

He reined in the smile he got upon seeing her and rolled back on his heels. "You think that's funny? You won't like it very much if we have to spend the night in here."

She took a step forward. "I like it in here."

"You like sleeping on linoleum as opposed to a soft bed?"

She took the last step separating them and slid her arms into his suit coat on either side, wrapping her arms around his waist. "As long as I get to use you as a pillow I don't care where I am." She went up on her toes and kissed him lightly.

"Well," he said feigning grumpiness, "I'm old and creaky and was really looking forward to a bed that wasn't in a hotel—now what do I get? Hard plaster."

She laughed. "This coming from a man who spent the better part of decade on hotel beds and on a slab of wood in the CBI attic."

"It's your fault for spoiling me," he said and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I'll happily take that blame. I think you deserve a little spoiling now and again," she said. She looked up at him, studying his face. "How are you?"

"Great, now that you're here," he told her. "How long did you wait for me to come back here?"

"Not long. Fifteen minutes maybe. Didn't see me sneak into the kitchen, did you?" she bit her lip and he felt a small pang of jealousy that _he_ wasn't biting her lip.

"Not that I'm complaining," he said, "but why are you here? I thought you were flying in at midnight."

"I took an earlier flight," she pressed a kiss to his lips, "I missed you." She kissed him again. He tightened his grip on her as she pulled back. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Just making sure." He nuzzled her neck and she moaned, sending a chill straight through him. "That's it, I've just decided, next time the team gets split up, you're coming with me."

She chuckled and turned her head, searching for his mouth. He kissed her happily, slowly backing her to the door and pressing her against it. It'd only been a week, but he felt starved for her. The feel of her kisses and her soft skin. The way she would so easily meld to him whenever they hugged or kissed.

"Why couldn't this have happened the first time we were locked in here?" he asked through languid kisses.

She leaned back and looked at him with a startled expression. "What? You thought this was going to happen the first time we were in here?"

"More like hoped."

She raised a brow at him.

"And that someone would find us making out in here," he told her unapologetically.

"So it would get back to Marcus."

He shrugged.

She smacked him.

"Not just so it would get back to Marcus," he said. "I also wanted to taste you, feel your lithe body against mine." He pulled her roughly to him, pleased at her small gasp. "I was getting pretty desperate at that point." He leaned into kiss her, but she pulled away and looked down at his jacket.

"Jane, what's in your pocket?" she asked. He realized, belatedly, that the ring box had somehow pressed between their two abdomens as she reached into said pocket and pulled it out. Her face fell. "What's this?"

He let his head drop to her shoulder and took a deep breath. _Oops. _

"Nothing," he said reaching for it. "Just something for my other girlfriend."

She hit him in the arm. Hard.

"Ouch!"

She dropped her hands to her hips.

"Such hostility."

She glared.

He looked down at her angry face and fell in love with her all over again. This was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with, and he couldn't wait. "Marry me."

Her face dropped, then she abruptly chuckled, then bit her lip again, her expression turning pensive. He remained solemn, loving the way her emotions were playing across her face, going from disbelief, to confusion to excitement and back to disbelief. He wanted to kiss her, but refrained because he wanted her answer more. He appeased himself by pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Are…are you serious?" she stuttered.

He lifted the ring box and flipped it open with his thumb for her to see. Her eyes sparkled and her hands came up to her face, covering it, then buried her head in his chest.

"Yes." He kissed the top of her head. "Not a mind-reader, though, dear. In case you've forgotten…"

She chuckled and looked up at him again, smile on her face, tears running down her cheeks. He wiped a tear away with his free hand. She took the box from him and smiled at the princess cut diamond with two side stones in a sterling silver band. "How did you know?"

"Not a mind-reader—still a Mentalist." He took the box out of her hand, closed it and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Hey," she protested.

He shook his head. "Why do these life changing moments always have to be so difficult? I'll give you the ring back when you give me your answer."

She smirked. "So, I'd still get it back if I said 'no'?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh, all right," she held back a laugh and rolled her eyes. "I'll marry you."

His heart jumped in his chest and he thought he could never be happier. "Was that so hard?" he asked, then promptly pinned her to the door and claimed her mouth for his own.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked this little fic. If you're interested I have another story going called Rear Window that is loosely based on the 1958 movie of the same name. **


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